True Love
by phobic-i
Summary: (FrUK) Francis was an asshole. But Arthur loved him anyway.


**~FrUK~**

Francis loved fighting. Arthur was so beautiful when he was angry; his skin, flawless and light as ivory, flushed a glowing pink, his twitching fingers threading through his tousled ash-blond hair, his eyes, the very same enchanting green of summer leaves, flashing as he struggled to reign in his fierce emotions. Francis knew, with his heart beating against his ribcage almost painfully, that this was true beauty.

Arthur hated fighting. Francis was so infuriating when he wanted to be; his lips, twisted into a wry smirk, the aloof way he tossed his wavy hair over his shoulder, the way his eyes glowed as he stared at Arthur. He knew exactly how to wiggle his way beneath Arthur's skin with the insults he quipped, and he only gave a haughty breath of laughter as Arthur spiraled out of control yet again, bellowing long strings of curses and occasionally hurling any spare item at him.

**~FrUK~**

Arthur's mind was teetering on the edge of consciousness. He was uncomfortable; Francis' arm dug between his ribs, and it really beginning to hurt. The other arm was slung around his waist, the fingers trapped beneath the elastic waistband of his pajama pants. A mess of sheets tangled around both of their legs, the duvet that matched the set rumpled across the floor. Arthur moved his head slightly, squinting as Francis' shifted, his obnoxious snoring becoming louder. Arthur sighed through his nose, feeling his stomach churn with dread.

A black eye.

The delicate skin around Francis' closed eye was swollen, the closed eyelid a faint purple color. Blurry memories of the night prior sent his head spinning; too many drinks, sending his head whirling, Francis' insulting quips provoking him. Their raised voices overlapping as they hurled abuse at each other. Arthur's body tensing, one of Francis' snubs piercing him in the heart; Arthur lunged at Francis, his fist swinging and knocking Francis into a stumble.

** ~FrUK~**

"You're a total asshole!" Arthur hurled himself at Francis, catching the taller man by surprise and bowling him off of his feet. The skidded along the floor a few feet, Francis' head smacking into the panelling with a sick thud. Arthur's face, twisted with rage, softened in the instant Francis' eyesight was jarred into a world of blur. Francis felt the feather-soft caress of fingers brush up the side of his jawline, and stared up at the bleary outline of Arthur, his eyes wide as he tried to force his eyes back into clarity. "But I love you.."

Francis' eyes slowly slipped shut, his lips twisting into a small smile as Arthur wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing his liquor-tasting lips to Francis'.

**~FrUK~**

The rich aroma of bacon wafted into the room, rousing Arthur from his sleep. He lifted his head, his eyes squinted against the bleariness of sleep. His eyes watered as his mouth gaped in a huge yawn. Arthur rolled over onto his back, his toes curling in the fabric of the warm duvet as cool air hit his bare arms, his thin pajama shirt warming him none. Arthur heaved a sigh, his lungs burning just the slightest, and clenched his teeth, slipping out from beneath the comfort of the duvet and into the chilly room.

Padding on the freezing panelled floors with the heels of his feet, Arthur waddled into the kitchen, yawning loudly to catch the attention of the near naked figure standing near the sink. "Morning..." Arthur mumbled, running his hands through his tousled hair. Francis craned his next over his shoulder, his blue eyes glowing as he smiled at the sleepy Brit.

"_Bonjour, ma chérie!_" he greeted cheerfully, padding over to stand beside Arthur, snaking an arm around his waist. Arthur yawned again, his yawn faltered as Francis swept him closer, their noses touching. Arthur instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, closing his eyes tiredly. "How was your sleep? Mine was amazing, with you in my arms."

Arthur felt his ears burn, and he swatted Francis on the shoulder. "Belt up," he scoffed, a smile twitching on his lips. "I slept well, I suppose." Francis nodded, leaning forward to press his lips swiftly to Arthur's. Arthur blinked, taken by surprise at the passion in the smooch, but closed his eyes and moved his lips against the other pair warmly. Francis tasted of rich coffee and buttery crêpes.

Francis quickly pulled back. "Arthur," he chuckled, "go brush your teeth, cher, your breath is _très brut._" Arthur moved away, his ears burning and a scowl on his face. Francis smiled, giving a shrug as Arthur trudged from the room, muttering curses along the lines of "wonderful, retched asshole."

**~FrUK~**

"Arthur-san, if you would not mind me asking, but would you care to tell me how you and Francis became the couple you are today?" Arthur shot Kiku a lopsided smile, a brush of pink blossoming across his pale complexion. The Japanese man gave the smallest of smiles as the French blond carefully placed one bare foot in front of the other, moving swiftly but carefully, closing his eyes and sipping his tea contently. He stifled a huff of laughter as Arthur squawked, surely Francis's arms wrapping around his waist a complete surprise.

"The more he smiled, the more I wanted to hate him, and yet it was the very thing that made hating him impossible."

**~FrUK~**

_Author's Note:_ This was originally for a small contest on that I was participating in. I finished this small entry for the contest, collapsing in despair when I realized that said contest ended earlier this day, at 12:00 pm. I overslept, and i could not enter it.

So, after that disappointment, I decided to post it on my accounts anyway. I don't think I nailed the relationship between France and Britain well enough, but I was in a hurry.

**_The song, True Love (The Truth About Love), belong to P!nk. The video on the margin belongs to EpicXDarkness, who edited the video for her friend's birthday._****_Hetalia - Axis Powers belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya._**


End file.
